A LaLa Land Addiction (3 page)

They quickly handcuffed her and grabbed the chair before forcing her into her seat. “You can't just hold me in here! Where is my lawyer!” she shouted.

“Well, well. You are on a roll with breaking things tonight, aren't you?”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “Who are you?” Naomi shot, her face turned up in distrust.

“I'm the District Attorney.”

Naomi sucked her teeth. “You think you're important with your fancy two-piece suit and them cheap-ass shoes. Girl, you're just another ass-kissing Uncle Tom. No matter how many of your own people you put away, you still won't be one of them. How many niggas you lock up today?”

D.A. Nixon smirked as she took a seat and pulled a manila folder out of her leather briefcase. She opened it and began flipping through the pages. “You're tough,” she said. “Grew up in Baltimore, Maryland. Father in federal prison. You're related to the infamous Porter clan. Picked up for grand larceny, felonious assault. In fact, you have an active warrant for your arrest there.…”

Naomi's stomach went hollow as she listened to her past being thrown in her face. She had come to Michigan for a new start, but as she sat here she felt it in her soul that everything she had run away from was about to catch up to her.

“What do you want?” Naomi asked frankly. She knew that if the D.A. really wanted to turn her over to Baltimore P.D. she wouldn't even be wasting her time with threats. This wasn't about Naomi. The D.A. was interested in something else.

“Noah Langston is your boyfriend?” D.A. Nixon posed the question.

Naomi hesitated.
What is this about?
she thought.

“It's okay. You don't have to answer. I'll assume that he is,” the D.A. said. “I'll also assume that as his girlfriend you aren't too pleased with the fact that Bleu Montclair is the reason he continues to have trouble with the law. He caught a five-year bid for killing her stepfather; now he is at risk of being sent back for violating his parole to go see her in California.…”

Naomi's disposition changed at that revelation.
He told me he went to Cali to handle business. Not to chase after some bitch,
she thought, slightly irritated.

The D.A. noticed her anger. “Oh. I see you are not familiar with Mr. Langston's relationship with Ms. Montclair,” she said.

Naomi cut her eyes at the D.A. as a million things ran through her mind. She didn't know about the complexity of Noah's friendship with Bleu, but the fact that he hadn't told her about it bothered her deeply.

“You see, all I want is Bleu Montclair's location. She is a witness in an armed murder and robbery of a local business owner in the city. I think Mr. Langston knows where I can find her. He broke parole to go see her. For some reason, he would rather be shipped back to prison than let me know where Ms. Montclair is—”

“He went to Calabasas,” Naomi said. She was pissed. The fact that Noah was willing to risk all that they were building to protect another woman had her vexed. Naomi was a territorial woman and she had already marked Noah. His loyalty to another made her sick to her stomach. In any other circumstance she would have given the D.A. her ass to kiss, but Naomi wasn't about to protect a girl she didn't even know. “I don't know exactly where ol' girl is, but he mentioned something about the Holiday Inn in Ventura when he was there.”

The D.A. smirked and stood as she gathered the case file. As she headed for the door Naomi lifted her cuffed hand.

“Hey!” she shouted, expecting to be freed for her cooperation.

The D.A. looked at the officer standing in the corner of the room and said, “Let her cool off for a few hours and then cut her and Langston loose. And put an arrest warrant out for Bleu Montclair. She hasn't done anything, but I'll take her any way I can get her. If she so much as gets a traffic ticket in L.A. I want LAPD to detain her. I need her testimony to close this murder case against the two liquor store shooters. I want her back in Flint, Michigan, as soon as possible.”

*   *   *

“Who is Bleu?” Naomi asked.

It was the first words that had been spoken since she and Noah had been released from holding nearly twenty-four hours ago. A thick tension filled the air between them. It was an uncharacteristic vibe for their relationship. Every interaction with them had been smooth, easy, and effortless. Now an awkwardness existed. Both were consumed with thoughts they didn't care to share, but the silence was deafening. Naomi awaited his response with bated breath. Her gut knotted because she had a feeling she wasn't going to like his answer. She saw the wheels turning in his head. He was choosing his words carefully. Perhaps overthinking his explanation, which only worried Naomi more. “It's a simple question,” she added.

“With a complicated answer,” he responded. He didn't look at her. Instead he stood in the window of Naomi's top-floor loft, overlooking the lights of the city.

Naomi knew better than to push. If she forced him to talk he wouldn't disclose the full truth to her, and she didn't tolerate dishonesty. The first time he ever lied to her would be the last. She would be in the wind before he even realized she was gone. Naomi wouldn't make herself susceptible to pain. She couldn't. Noah had a strong hold over her. Loving him could leave her broken, and she didn't like the vulnerability of it all.

“Just tell me if this girl is somebody I need to worry about,” she whispered.

Noah turned toward her. The concern in her tone was surprising. He crossed the room and stood directly in front of her. Noah lifted her chin with his fingertip so that he could look into her tear-filled eyes.

“You don't have to worry,” Noah assured her.

“You promise?” she asked as she placed her hands on the sides of his face and pulled him near.

“I promise,” he answered.

Noah saw his words soothe her angst as the tension left her shoulders. Guilt filled him because even as he stood in front of Naomi Bleu occupied his mind. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was in trouble. He couldn't place his finger on what exactly had changed about her, but Bleu was different. He told himself that his concern came from a friendly place, but deep down he knew. Being around her made him feel hollow inside and leaving L.A. without her had killed him.
Bleu out there with that Hollywood-ass nigga, riding her high horse. She's too good for you now,
he told himself. He had a woman right here in front of him who would do anything for him. Naomi was loyal. She was solid. Naomi wanted to be his, and that was more than he could say for Bleu. A part of him wanted to keep his heart on reserve. He felt disloyal for allowing Naomi to occupy such an intimate place in his life, but Bleu had made her choice. She was doing her thing, living in a life that he didn't quite fit into out in L.A. Time and distance had made them grow apart. They had walked down two different paths, and although his soul would always crave her, Noah couldn't wait around forever. Bleu was his past. Naomi had held him down during his bid and helped him break free. Naomi had proved herself time and time again. He owed her his loyalty. Naomi was exactly the type of queen he needed as he built his street kingdom. He knew this, but still his affections for Bleu resided deep within him. He pulled away from Naomi, conflicted. He wanted a young woman he couldn't have, but still their bond had been cemented in years of friendship. He couldn't help but love her. Bleu knew him better than anyone else in the world. Trying to let go of that bond was proving futile, but he had to try. He wasn't used to playing a sucker. He didn't like how much power Bleu had over his emotions.
Maybe it's a good thing she's so far away. I can't have her weighing on me this heavy and chase this money. She's a distraction,
Noah thought.

“What's wrong?” Naomi asked, sensing the inner turmoil that was conflicting him.

She snapped him out of his reverie. “I'm good,” he replied distractedly.

Naomi closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “You're not good, but you will be by the time I'm done with you.” Her kisses dulled his concerns as she dipped low, going south, then a little farther, planting her perfectly pouted lips against his skin to build the anticipation. Noah sighed and let his head fall back in pleasure as she helped him release all of his tension. As he fisted her hair he realized that she might not be exactly whom he wanted, but she knew exactly what he needed to take his mind off of the one woman he couldn't have.

 

3

Bleu could hear her heart beating in her ears as she stared out of the window of Iman's car. She was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. What could she say? She felt like a child riding with a disappointed parent. The only difference was, Iman wasn't obligated to save her. He wasn't naturally designed to love her. His affections for Bleu had limits and she feared that she had tested them one too many times. A mixture of fear and wanting filled her. Had Cinco told Iman about her involvement in robbing him? Was Iman driving her back just to be punished? She had a feeling that there was a side of him that she had yet to witness. He was in deep with the Mexican Cartel. He ran an entire West Coast operation. Bleu wasn't naïve to the fact that there was a darkness inside of him. Good guys didn't make it to the position of power that Iman was in. His love for her had allowed her to witness a rare side of vulnerability, but as she stole a quick glance she no longer saw that in him. His frustration was written all over his face. The worry lines written on his forehead revealed the anger that he was trying hard to hide. His temple throbbed. He was like a kettle threatening to boil over. Bleu waited for him to chastise her. She would rather he yell and berate her, but he kept his composure, giving her nothing but silence as he drove her home. She didn't even feel like it was her place to speak. It was like she needed his permission to open her mouth and provide an explanation. He didn't give it, so she didn't make one peep. It was the first time she had ever felt intimidated.

When Iman pulled up to his Calabasas mansion Bleu didn't move.

“Iman…”

“Just go inside, Bleu,” Iman said. “I need to go clear my mind, ma. Can I trust you to stay put until I get back?”

She could tell that he was trying his hardest to be patient with her. He was fed up and she couldn't blame him. He wasn't her daddy. He shouldn't have to put up with her stunts. Her bad-girl antics were tiresome and she could tell by his temperament toward her that he viewed her differently now. The first time he had snatched her off the streets she was a good girl who had lost her way. This time she wasn't so innocent. She was just some cracked-out fiend desperate for the chance to wrap her lips around a glass dick.
Why would he want to be with me now?
she thought.

“Bleu,” he said, frustration lacing his every word. “Go in the house.”

She nodded as tears accumulated in her eyes. Even now, under his judgmental gaze, Bleu still felt the urge to get high. She hated herself for loving something more than she loved Iman. She was too weak to resist it and she was afraid of what she would do if left alone.

“I don't want to disappoint you,” she whispered. “Can you just stay with me, please?” She swiped a tear that had escaped down her cheek.

Iman's face fell in devastation as he looked at her sadly. It was the first time he ever thought about the role he played in this disease. He just happened to love Bleu, a girl addicted to the very drug he flooded the streets with. It made him sick to his stomach because, although he knew how addictive crack cocaine was, seeing it affect someone so close to him was torture. He was trying to impose a strength on her that she just did not possess. He had to sniff back his emotions as he nodded.

“Yeah, ma, I got you,” he said. The anger dissipated, giving way to sympathy and remorse. He was too fast-paced for this young girl. He was the bad to her good and before he thought that gave him balance, but now he saw that he had contributed to her corruption. He exited the car and walked around to open her door.

“Is anyone else here?” she asked, her voice shaking as she thought of the possibility of running into Cinco again.

“No, everyone's gone,” Iman replied, frowning as he recognized the look of fear in her eyes. She averted her eyes from his intense stare.

“Why can't you look me in my eyes, ma?” he asked.

Bleu couldn't find the words to answer him. She was emotionally drained.

Bleu wanted to tell him what burdened her. She wanted to spill the secrets of her heart, her afflictions, and her worries, but she knew once she did things would never be the same between them. She knew that Iman loved her. The way he handled her told her that. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could, but to know that she had robbed Cinco and that Cinco had been inside of her … Even if Iman forgave her for the role she had played that night, he would never get over the fact that Cinco had been between her legs. That was supposed to be Iman's alone to explore. It was unspoken that he owned that pussy, and she had allowed someone he knew to occupy it. Bleu knew it decreased her value. No man wanted what everybody could get.
He probably won't even believe that Cinco raped me. It'll be my word against his. Cinco will never admit that. He's not going to say anything to Iman. If Cinco was going to say anything he would have done that already. I just have to keep my mouth shut. It's the only time I'll ever lie to him,
she thought. Her drug addiction robbed her of all credibility. Her mind went back to the elaborate stories her mother used to tell. They had all just sounded like excuses.
I don't want to be just another fiend telling crackhead tales,
she thought.
I can't tell him the truth.

“I just want you to look at me the way you used to,” she said honestly as she shifted her stance while hugging herself.